Gut Pageant

I wasn’t going to write about Barbara Ann. Because I was just peripheral. I heard what happened because her sister Janice called me to see if I could help her find Keir. Otherwise, I suppose I would’ve seen Ralph’s blog and then eventually asked him about it. Fortunately Ralph, who has become a really good friend to me, has been there to help me navigate what is a large and complex web of connections.

These connections can form between people who are only vaguely acquainted. Then they may get stronger or weaker, depending on lots of things, time being one of the most prominent.

So back to Barbara Ann. When she died, my connection to her was weak, and no time left to strengthen it. You’d think that would be the end. But something else went to work after that. I heard her speak. A week or so ago, about 3 months after she died, Barb’s husband Ernie and the theatre company they had both founded put on an event. It was called Barbara Ann’s Visions of Electric Perturbia. Her art would be on display and three of her plays would be performed at the Katherine Gianaclis Park for the Arts (KGPA). The same place, incidentally, where Barbara had lived, and died.

I was told that the place used to be a bookstore/restaurant. I arrived there and passed through what would’ve been the park/yard, an area covered with pieces of art, and assorted junk, and met up with Janice. She showed me, and Karen, another friend of hers, around the house. There was a small living room type space with old furniture such as a bunch of students might have: salvaged from curbsides, held together with tape. The most notable thing about the room was that it was covered with art. Paintings, photographs, signs, stickers and numerous other items covered the walls, even the ceiling. The kitchen was a small L-shaped counter with no stove in the corner of the room leading into the hall. A small kitchen tile plaque hung on the wall next to the counter. It said “Barbara’s Kitchen.”

A step down from here led into the hall, an addition added at a later time to connect the original house to the space that was now the theatre. “That was Barb’s room,” Janice told us, indicating a closed door on the left. She said that someone else was living in there now, and it was locked probably to keep the cats from getting out. On the door to the room hung Barbara’s painting of a giraffe. Janice said that Barb had seen the giraffe in a dream and called the painting “Morning Visitor.” Many of Barb’s other paintings were on display both in the hall and throughout the areas which the residents used as both their living and creative space. These spaces also functioned as a back stage area since walking through a black curtain in a doorway left you on stage.

The black box theatre took up the majority of the building. It contained most of what used to be the restaurant and bookstore. Assorted chairs and old church pews made up the seating. A pair of sofas sat as a boundary between the stage and the rest of the room. Just inside the fortress of sofas, a row of footlights lined the stage and cast light upon it. The sofas, I soon found, served as seating as well as a boundary. Audience members could sit there and watch the actors as if they were looking into someone else’s living room.

More people filed in to look at the art and attend the plays. It got crowded so after making several rounds of the place, viewing all the paintings and other items which were placed as tributes to Barbara, I finally took a seat in one of the pews and waited for the plays to start. Janice, her mom, and her aunt were sitting in the row in front of me. Music was playing and an actress was already on stage, getting into character. She was wearing what looked like pajamas and swinging a large swathe of fabric, perhaps a blanket or a sheet. She sat in the back corner of the stage, on a couch that was part of the set. She alternately sat very still and then moved as if agitated, waving the fabric in front of her or behind her or over her head.

After about 30 minutes, the first play was about to begin. It was called “Visionary.” Some appropriate music played as Ernie turned the house lights down and the footlights illuminated the actress on stage. She performed what was essentially a one-man show. Her character was in a dialogue with a psychiatrist (off stage) in a mental institution where she was detained after committing a crime. We only hear her portion of the dialogue. The actress gave an intense performance, luring the audience into the world of her character. In the dark, it didn’t matter that we were sitting in this makeshift space on mismatched cushions in a building with an unpleasant smell and that may very well have been unsafe.

The other two plays that I saw featured other actors and actresses whom also lived there at the KGPA. The performances were all good. I enjoyed them. But what struck me most was how much I learned from hearing Barbara’s words. She said so much through these characters who were in situations ranging from the mundane to the bizarre. And what she said, it seemed to explain everything. And nothing. Why did Barbara take her own life? I still don’t know. But I do know a few things. She felt deeply and expressed herself every way she knew how. She was greatly loved, and yet it did not prevent her from seeing the darkness. It did not protect her from the knowledge of it. It did not soothe her distress at the unfathomable sadness that people cause each other. And it did not help her reconcile the incongruity of modern life; a culture of war and of art; of spiritual pursuits and of mindless diversion; of social obligation and of freedom; and of kindness and peace and of evil.

At certain points I could hear the responses to the lines spoken. I could hear laughter and also crying from around me. I thought about Janice in front of me, and how hard it must be for her to hear what Barb was saying, even though she wanted more than anything to hear it all.

When the third play ended, Ernie turned on the lights and invited everyone to stick around and hear a band play or to go get beer at the gas station next door, or to just hang out in the yard. I wandered, eyes moist, outside. I’d gotten hot sitting in the theatre, and now I stood by a tree breathing in the night air. People were gathered around a table, or standing in groups. I was by myself, making figures in the dirt with the toe of my shoe, and tears were beginning to run down my face. A few people I’d been introduced to waved as they left, saying it was nice meeting me. I did my best to respond in kind and not appear all choked up even though I was. I tried looking up at the stars, keeping my eyes open wide so they could benefit from the breeze. Soon Janice appeared, chatting with another friend. I didn't want to disturb her; I just wanted to say a quick good night, but when she passed me she said, “Wait, I’ll be right back.” After walking some friends out to their cars and speaking with a few other people in the yard, she returned to ask me what I thought of the plays. I said I found them stirring. I was still crying, but smiling at the same time. Janice said that it had been intense for her, very emotional. There were a lot of things, moments in the plays, that struck a chord. I told her that I hadn’t known that Barb was a writer as well as an actress and painter. She said that Barb wrote prolifically and that even though she didn’t finish a lot of works meant for public performance, it was as natural to her as swimming to a fish. She just did everything creative. She also said that she had all of Barb’s journals on a shelf in her house and that even though she hadn't looked at them all yet, she knows that one day she will read every word.

“I wish I could’ve known her,” I said quietly. “Yeah, well,” Janice said, her voice rising slightly, “I just wanted to say to her, ‘Fuck, Barb. Why’d you go and do something like that?’ Now it’s too late; no one else will ever have that chance to know her.” She was quiet for a few moments then she said, “I’m glad you came though, and got something out of it. Barb touched pretty much everyone she met.” I agreed. “Plus, there will always be those connections…” I said, trailing off in my inarticulateness. “Yes, exactly,” Janice said, understanding anyway.

Janice made another trip out to the cars, to escort some other friends, and I followed. I bid her good night and as I drove home, I thought about connections and how it seemed new ones had been made. Stronger ones. Even though she was gone, Barbara was still helping these connections form.

A Beautiful Book

One week ago I received my new Amazon Kindle e-book reader, the Kindle 2. When the original Kindle came out I was intrigued and eager to learn more. I thought the idea of it was cool. I had looked at e-readers before. The Sony model had been on display at Borders already for some time. But I didn't know a lot about the file formats. Could any book be made into an e-book? Did you have to download them to your computer and then put them on your device? How did all that work and was it really better than just a good old hardcover or paperback?

After some investigation, I found that Amazon's device had the added functionality of direct wireless download of reading materials. No computer necessary. The wireless service was included, no service plan or per download charge. These were definite benefits the Kindle seemed to have over Sony's or other devices on the market. This, plus the ability to carry hundreds of books with you in this slim handy device seemed a book lover's dream. Of course if you're like I am, and usually don't attempt to read more than one book at a time, is this really better than just keeping the book you are reading in your purse so you always have it with you? Well, it is if it's only available in a bulky hardcover. Or if you're traveling and don't want to carry more than one book, and you are worried about having enough reading material for the whole journey.

The wireless delivery capability also allows for subscriptions to newspapers and magazines as well as selected blogs. Amazon's Kindle store offers these subscriptions. The newspapers and magazine subscriptions service seems handy. Especially for publications that are not graphics intensive. I have a few papers and mags in mind that I'm thinking of getting this way, but haven't yet. I can imagine the convenience of not having to deal with all the cumbersome newsprint or magazines piling up in your recycling bin which is only picked up once every two weeks. Amazon backs up your purchases online and for subscriptions will archive several back issues under your account.

As for blogs, I can't really see the advantage of paying Amazon to send a blog to your device. Apparently they have versions of "The Onion" and other popular blogs that are formatted especially for reading on the Kindle. But if you just wait to read them online, they are free. I found a way around this by visiting a couple of the many online forums devoted to e-book readers in general and the Kindle specifically. Forum users are full of ideas and resources for securing free content. A free service called Feedbooks allows you to package RSS feeds for single or multiple blogs you read regularly into a "newspaper" which you can transfer to your Kindle via USB and update wirelessly each day. Feedbooks also has a catalog of free and low cost books for download. Many other sites like this exist. In some cases there may be a format conversion needed depending on the type of e-book file they have available. The Kindle's native AZW format is very similar and compatible with mobipocket files (.prc or .mobi). There are at least 2 dozen other formats. It seems easy enough to figure out how to convert them even if you're only slightly tech savvy.

There are plenty of free and low cost books available in Amazon's Kindle store as well. Just search Kindle books by lowest price. As of today, there are 7000 results. Loads of the classics are available for free since the material is public domain. I started my Kindle reading experience with Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, a perpetual favourite, just to initiate myself into the feel of reading on the Kindle. The novel was as wonderful as it always is.

So as for the reading experience on the Kindle, I'm very happy with it so far. The device does the obvious things like saving your place in the book and allowing you to return to it easily. You can add your own bookmark, or use the wireless to sync to the furthest page you read. Amazon backs this up for you as well as any notations or highlighted sections you mark.

I like that you can read one handed, turning the page with a gentle pressure on the next page or prev page button. The e-ink technology causes the screen to blink quickly as the ink from that page is cleared and the ink from the next page is placed. It reminds me a bit of an Etch-a-Sketch, but you get used to it quickly and it becomes barely noticable. The choice of 6 font sizes makes readability a cinch. I've been told that the largest font is comparable to about 20 pt. I find the 3rd largest font most comfortable since the larger font you use, the more you have to turn the page. The 6 inch display is about 3/4 the length of a typical paperback page. Other e-readers like the Sony expand the display to take up more of the device's size, and rely upon touch screen controls. I would rather not have touch screen on the reading surface because of fingerprints, so I appreciate Amazon's choice to keep the screen at 6 inches and include a physical qwerty keyboard to search for books, make notes, type URLs etc. The screen itself is very nice to read on as it's not backlit and therefore glare free!

The thing I find hardest to adjust to so far is the page numbering. Kindle books don't use page numbers. It would be problematic of course because changing the size of the font would re-paginate the whole text. Instead, the Kindle uses location numbers. A scroll bar along the bottom of the display shows current location, total locations in the book, and notes your percentage of completion as you progress in your reading. When you set a bookmark, the device records it by location number, and you can easily return to that location by using the Go to location option on the menu. Still, I've always been one of those people who mentally notes the page number as I go along. As in "10 more pages and I'll go to bed," or "I'm 100 pages in and I can't put it down!" It's a hard habit to break. Now I find myself watching the percentage ("I'm 25% of the way through...") and it's just not the same.

Aside from the basic reading experience, the Kindle has a bunch of other nifty features that aren't strictly necessary, but cool. It has a built in dictionary. If you come across a word you aren't familiar with, you can look it up by moving your cursor to it and clicking. The definition will appear in short across the bottom of the display, so you can check it out and keep reading, or you can click through to the full display of the definition, and see all the meanings and other info. If you come across a foreign word, proper name or other reference that isn't in the dictionary, you can look it up using the Kindle's basic web browser on Google or Wikipedia. The Kindle browser bookmark menu has links to these as well as a handful of other useful sites. You can also enter a URL for other sites of your choosing. But I wouldn't say the browser is all that handy for web surfing. It's kind of slow, and images don't work so well in the greyscale. I'd just as soon wait until I have a wi-fi connection and use my iPod Touch or my laptop. I'm sure they will improve it in future versions, but it's definitely not a reason to buy the Kindle 2. In the menu it's listed under "Experimental" features, so the developers want to make sure we aren't expecting perfection there anyway. Another "Experimental" feature is the Text-to-Speech option. The Kindle will read to you. The choice of male or female voices both sound kind of robotic, but it works in a pinch if you want to close your eyes for a bit. And also, it will play audio books. And Mp3 files. Both nifty, but not necessary. My favourite of these features is definitely the dictionary. Stopping to look up a word is something I have done, and will probably do more often now.

As a lifelong lover of books, I've been following with interest discussions of the Kindle and other e-readers and their potential to supplant physical books completely. I can confidently say this will not happen. Not any time soon, and probably not ever. The reasons are fairly obvious to me, but in the interest of being specific:

1. E-ink cannot do color, yet. Illustrations and photography are still a negligible part of the e-book experience. The Kindle displays a selection of author portraits in greyscale as a screensaver when the device is asleep (see photo). I'm sure they are working on color, but even so, this is never going to replace a huge coffee table art book, a beautifully illustrated children's book or comic.

2. A physical book does not require batteries or a power cord. Yes, the battery life in the Kindle is good, 4 days with wireless on, up to two weeks with wireless turned off. Common sense applies here. I turn mine off at night, and let it sleep with wireless off if I put it down for a while. So I haven't tested it to see if it lasts 2 weeks on a charge. But yeah, books still win on this one.

3. A physical book, as an object, can be a work of art. The tactile nature of reading one will remain appealing. Picking one up, flipping through it, turning it over in your hands, I can't imagine not having that. A beautiful copy of a favorite book will always be a good investment (both in my hard earned dollars and in shelf space). For example, I purchased along with my Kindle, a hardcover copy of Neil Gaiman's Newbery Award winning "The Graveyard Book." Gaiman is a favorite author and I own copies of many of his books. Presently, works such as his "Sandman" series of comics cannot be replicated on the Kindle. And when I met Mr. Gaiman this past November, he couldn't have autographed and sketched in an e-book as he did in my physical copy (see below) :)


4. A physical book can be shared or passed along to someone else once it's read. Kindle's can share books within a single account. For instance if you have more than one Kindle in the household, but otherwise, no.

Anyway, this isn't meant to be a comprehensive review of the device, or an argument for or against it. I happen to think the Kindle and physical books will co-exist just fine. From what I can tell from the online communities I have visited, members of the Kindle Kulture (not my word) would agree with me. These are just some thoughts on my experience so far.

(S)he Thought of Cars

Growing up in New York, I'd never really been a car person. In fact when I was old enough to get my learner's permit, I put it off because my dad had just been in a bad car accident and the sight of his smashed up truck in the driveway scared me off. I tore up the driver's manual and that was that.

By the time I was 19, I was in the Army, stationed at Fort Carson in Colorado Springs. My 1SG wanted me to be his driver when we went to the field. I had to admit that I had never learned to drive. He suggested I go to a driving school in the area, and there I took lessons in a Ford Bronco II. My instructor got me through the tests and I received my first license in the state of Colorado. I completed the qualification for my military license, and soon after the driver's side of the 1SG had vinyl letters stuck along the base of the windshield reading PFC Nieves. So in a way my first car was a HMMWV or Hummer. It was the 2 seater with the soft-covered rear cargo area, like this one:











My first few experiences as a driver were not especially promising. Shortly after assuming the position of 1SG's driver, I accidentally rolled my parked vehicle into a the civilian vehicle of a newly arrived S3 Captain. The parking brake was a bit loose it turned out, so it was not entirely my fault. But I did have to apologize to the Captain and take remedial drivers' training.

While still at Fort Carson, I considered buying a civilian car for myself. In fact I went with a couple of my platoon mates to the local Toyota dealer where I test drove a gray Corolla. It was a fine economical car. I had a steady income being in the military. But in the end I decided not to embark upon years of car payments after I had just learned to drive.

A PCS to Darmstadt, Germany brought additional driver training. Especially since my unit convoys occasionally traveled via the Autobahns amidst the civilian drivers who enjoyed travel without speed limits. Our convoys were required to travel at the speed of 55 mph with a full vehicle distance between each vehicle. The German civilians took advantage of our slow and steady movements by changing lanes, zipping in and out and passing our vehicles two and three at a time. It definitely made me nervous. After all driving for the 1SG at Fort Carson mostly just required driving downrange on the base, with little traffic and few obstacles.

With the fantastic public transportation available in Europe, I never even considered buying a car while overseas, so another few years went by before I took the plunge. After leaving the military, I finally found the need to get a car when I moved to Santa Barbara for college. California, and the west coast in general is very much a car culture. Getting anywhere usually required a freeway of some sort. While Santa Barbara did have a mostly convenient bus system and network of bike paths, sometimes you just needed to have a car. I also had a dog, and though she wasn't large, she was big enough that I couldn't sneak her on the bus, or put her in my backpack as I rode my bike.

My actual first car was a light blue 1995 Geo Prism, very basic, it had manual window cranks, and in fact I don't even think it had air conditioning. I leased it new, mostly because my dad was worried that if I had a used car that ended up needing repair, he wouldn't be able to fly out from New York on a moment's notice to help me with it. I had originally planned on going with the smaller Geo Metro, or the Toyota Tercel. I favoured smaller cars, but my parents expressed concern about my safety. I had the Prism for about a year. Leasing just turned out to be too expensive for me as I had to pay a premium on insurance with my limited driving experience and the full coverage required on a lease. I turned the car in early which messed up my credit. I wouldn't have another car for at least a year, and I made due with the bus and my bike. I'd ask a friend to drive me and my dog to the vet or to take me along on larger grocery shopping excursions.

Finally I saved up about $900 in cash and bought a 1983 Ford Mustang. It was brown. With a beige stripe along each side of the body. It was pretty pitiful really, held together by electrical tape, velcro, and staples, but it got me around town and school. I had that car until I graduated and then eventually moved with it to graduate school in Provo, Utah. The car didn't last long in Provo however. Soon I lost the reverse gear, causing me to scramble around and park so I could pull out forwards as much as possible. In the winter snow, I often ended up pushing the car backwards, either alone or with help, to get it out of the only available space in the grad student parking lot. Soon after, the transmission quit altogether.

After another short and really inconvenient carless period - I was living on a mountain, a long uphill walk from school even in the best weather -I cobbled together about $3000 to buy a 1989 Toyota Camry. It was light blue, just like the Prism I'd had a few years earlier and very similar to the '89 Camry my mom had owned back in, well 1989. It ran pretty well for a 12 year old car. I put a new stereo in it, and it served me for almost 3 years until its transmission died, just like the Mustang.

Something happened though between the time I got the Camry and when it died. I spent the summer of 2002 in Belgium, teaching at a language school in the tiny town of Thiaumont, near the border of Luxembourg. The school was located in the very southeast of Belgium, a short jaunt from not just Luxembourg but also Germany and France. The opportunity to travel in my off time from teaching was great, but the public transport in that tiny corner of Belgium was not. I ended up leasing a little car from a company that did holiday leases. Basically I rented it for the summer, but paid a lot less than if I rented by the week. It was a Peugeot 206, a compact little hatchback perfect in size for city traffic and in fuel efficiency for long trips and high European fuel prices. We actually used to nip over the border into Luxembourg for fuel since the taxes were much less than in Belgium. While zipping around Thiaumont and the nearest proper town, Arlon, I got my first glimpse of the newly relaunched MINI Cooper. It was love at first sight.

I'd long been an Anglophile, a lover of all things British - music, literature, pop culture and of course this included the now iconic classic Mini Coopers owned by everyone from the Beatles to the Queen. I'd never considered owning one though, considering their well known reputation for being unreliable. I was no mechanic, and fixing up and driving a classic car like that would require large and frequent infusions of cash. Not to mention the safety concerns. Oh yeah, and they hadn't sold the Mini in the United States since 1967.

Fast forward to 2002. There I am in Belgium looking at this amazing new incarnation of the classic car, and owning one suddenly seems an actual possibility. I started to do research on the internet to see if they would be selling the car in the United States. And yes, they had just barely become available. Upon my return to Provo in early October of that year, I continued researching and wishing and longing to get my own MINI. I finished and defended my Masters' Thesis in December and was all set to graduate from BYU in the spring of 2003. As a recent graduate, with a semester to semester adjunct teaching position at the local state college, my finances weren't in the best shape. My credit was still damaged from breaking the lease on my first car. So I wasn't going to be able to get financing for a new car, any new car, without help. And the MINI, well it may have been a sub-compact, fuel efficient marvel of design, but it also had the brand ownership and engineering prowess of BMW behind it. The new MINI wasn't cheap. It was packed with standard features that would be extras on most economy cars. And it was to be a limited production vehicle. Its small supply meant that discounts were scarce and premiums and waiting lists were the norm.

Somehow I managed it. With the help of my dad as co-signor, and a bit of money left me by my grandma, I ordered my 2003 Indi Blue MINI Cooper on 24 May 2003. Modestly equipped, and built just for me, in other words - perfect. Online, I was able to track her progress from when her VIN was assigned to her movement through the paint shop and final assembly in the Oxford factory. I followed her status as she was loaded on a train to Southampton, and then aboard a ship to cross the ocean. I was able to learn the ship's name and call sign (Don Quijote SFQP), its daily position coordinates, its progress through the Panama Canal, and arrival in Port Hueneme, California. After being unloaded from the ship and inspected, she was loaded onto a car carrier and transported to MINI of Murray, near Salt Lake City, Utah. She arrived and was prepped for delivery. And on 21 July 2003, I had to take the bus up to the dealership (the Camry had died by then) where she was waiting to meet me. She had a name, MINIfir. I'd already ordered her a personalized replica British plate. Keys in hand, I met my new baby.

Less than a week later, MINIfir and I joined the Utah MINI Motoring Club on our first club run or rally.

Fast Forward to 2009. In her 6th year, MINIfir has 68,000 miles on her odometer. She's been with me through a move to Las Vegas, MINI Takes the States I and II, and many runs with the Sin City MINI Club including AMVIVs. She's carried me safely all those miles, and my friends and family members for a few of them too. She's witnessed some awkward relationship moments, and a few quick changes of clothes, but always kept me safely within in rain and snow and windy dustiness. She's taken a few turns on the racetrack, and never met a twisty road she didn't like. Even when I don't quite trust my driving ability, I know I can trust her.

Everyday I get to drive her to work or on errands or anywhere at all, I feel lucky. I still smile big when I see her. I take care of her as best I can (though she's endured her share of nicks and scratches, rock chips and parking lot rudeness), and one day soon, I'll even be able to pay off her loan in full.

I thought about all this yesterday while we were on the road, the SCMC run went to Scotty's Castle in Death Valley, and how though my history with cars hasn't been entirely auspicious, I met my match in MINIfir. She is the car who made me a car person, because she herself is so much more than just a car.

Test Blog

I'm sending this blog by email to see if it will post to my blog and
what it will look like. Here it goooooeeees...

Employment

I recently heard mention on NPR of a blog for the unemployed called Unemploymentality so of course I had to check it out. The "about" section states:

"The unemploymentality is a transformative state of mind that is the result of a sudden loss of job. Initial symptoms include spite and resentment towards the ubiquitous “economy.”"

I'm glad that there's a word for this now. Four months into my latest stint on the dole and I'm recognizing the signs everywhere. Okay, not everywhere, but I've gotten into the habit of picking up on new habits and linking them to my state of unemployment.

For instance, I go to Starbucks (and by Starbucks I mean either Starbucks or Coffee Bean) more now than I ever have before in my life. It's true, I'd never understood those who swanned into the office with their venti non-fat mochachino on a daily basis. Can you really justify paying almost $4.00 for a cup of coffee 5 times a week? That's $20 you could have used to almost not quite fill your gas tank. It makes sense that while unemployed, the justification for such an indulgence would be even more difficult to achieve. Especially since you don't have anywhere to swan into, 5 days a week, or even 1. But now, for some reason, it seems a symbol of being a member of civilized society. What am I, an animal? I can't even aspire to a chai latte every once in a while?

The meager (and quickly running out) unemployment compensation I receive ($336.60 a week) is already budgeted down as far as it can go to keep up my car payments, rent, insurance, gas and cell phone service (can't get called for an interview without a phone right?) My living arrangements are such that I can slide on the rent if I really really need to (thanks Dad).

I rarely leave the house more than once or twice a week, mostly for appointments and errands of an essential nature. If I do go out with friends, I volunteer to act as the designated driver so I can get free sodas all night, and still have a bit of a social life. (Okay, that part is not strictly true. I never drink so I am always available as the designated driver anyway, I don't even have to volunteer. And despite my best efforts, even when employed, I don't have much of a social life.) Since I have to cut back in so many other ways (Oh, the temptation to spend my whole tax refund on a handbag as I have in years past) it seems reasonable to allow myself one small indulgence when I do venture forth into the world. The purchase of a Starbucks beverage gives me an excuse to linger in a bustling, yet laid back environment, maybe sit in a comfy chair for a bit, read a book, use the wi-fi connection and then go on my way, as if I have someplace else to be.

For me, Starbucks is the expensive handbag of the unemployed. The justifiable splurge (I don't know about you, but I can always justify an expensive handbag). Plus, it doesn't even make me late for work as it invariably would if I were to make such a daily stop on my way in to the office during a period of employment.

Dial-a-Cliche

It seems someone else already had this idea. The following note/chain letter has been going around on Facebook:

Today at 2:51pm
1. Put your iPod, iTunes, (or any MP3 player) on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS
4. Tag friends who might enjoy doing the game as well as the person you got the note from.

1) IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
Bullet with Butterfly Wings - Smashing Pumpkins
2) WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Dial-a-Cliche - Morrissey
3) WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Moving - Pete & the Pirates
4) HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Death of a Party - Blur
5) WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Poor Misguided Fool - Starsailor
6) WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
High - The Cure
7) WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Perfect Lovesong - The Divine Comedy
8) WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Work It - Thomas Tantrum
9) WHAT IS 2+2?
Geek U.S.A. - Smashing Pumpkins
10) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Little by Little - Oasis
11) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Bernice Bobs Her Hair - The Divine Comedy
12) WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Postcards from Far Away - Coldplay
13) WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Lung Shadows - The The
14) WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Knights of Cydonia - Muse
15) WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
The Distance - Cake
16) WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
The Clock - Thom Yorke
17) WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Start Wearing Purple - Gogol Bordello
18) WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Mr. Understanding - Pete & the Pirates
19) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
So. Central Rain - R.E.M.
20) WHAT'S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
Pretend that You're Alone - Keane
21) HOW WILL YOU DIE?
I Can't See New York - Tori Amos
22) WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
Him Dancing - Throwing Muses
23) WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
Ice - Kristin Hersh
24) WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
We Are the Pigs - Suede
25) WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED
Claire's Theme - Graeme Revell
26) What makes you scared?
The Bones of You - Elbow
27) DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?
Liquid Diamonds - Tori Amos
28) IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
Roscoe - Midlake
29) WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
Can't Take My Eyes Off of You - Muse
30) WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS NOTE AS?
We Float - PJ Harvey

Obviously the point is to see how scarily appropriate a song title may be to answer random questions. Or just to laugh at the silly ones. Or to shudder in denial over ones that could be scarily appropriate but it would really hurt to admit it. Case in point #2. Of course Morrissey or Smiths songs have a greater chance of being randomly appropriate than any others as it is. Then again, which Morrissey/Smiths song would be worse than Dial-a-Cliche? Some Girls are Bigger Than Others? You're the one for me, Fatty? Will Never Marry? Never Had No One Ever? What Difference Does it Make?

Okay, it's not just me. A friend of mine got Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now in answer to #4. Mozzer just has a knack of tapping into people's feelings and insecurities. Mostly because we all have the same ones he does. Or at least a lot of us do. And he just knows how to say it.

As I continue posting to this blog there may or may not be a song or lyric from my iTunes library that comes to mind to title each entry. If it does though, while the connection may not be obvious, it definitely won't be random.

Half These Songs Are About You

For the last few days I have been ripping CDs into my iTunes library. In the past, I had to be selective about how much of my hard drive I used for music files. And besides that, if I did want to listen to something that I didn't have on the computer, I could just pull out the CD and listen to it.

However, for the last 2 years or so, I've been back living with my parents and most all of my stuff is in a storgage unit about a mile from here. It's something of an inconvenience to go over there just to get a CD I suddenly wanted. But now I have this iMac with its big hard drive, I figured it could stand to hold a few more albums.

I brought my boxes of CDs up to my room and began ripping. At first, I was intent on copying everything I own. I have the space, and I can always back it all up on an external hard drive. As I began going through the CDs though, I began to lose resolve. Maybe I don't have to copy all of them. There are some in here that I'm pretty sure I'll never want to listen to. Some that I'd never even listened to in the first place. And some, that I'm sorta embarrassed that I ever listened to or even acquired in the first place.

I began to imagine someone flipping through my iTunes cover flow and having a giggle, rolling their eyes or just bursting out laughing. I didn't know exactly who this super judgmental person would be. Maybe my brother George? But then he has his own share of guilty pleasures. Most likely I was just thinking about myself. It can be tough living up to my own high standards. Is my record collection cool enough? Is it lacking? Certainly it is. How can it not be? Stuff I listened to growing up was mostly on casette tape, even a few vinyl 45s. Not all of it survived the transition to CD. Some of my earliest CD purchases ended up as trade-ins later on. Some I regretted not having but never bothered replacing.

Then there were all those things that I liked but not quite enough to buy a whole CD. I was, and am still very album oriented. If I liked one song, but wasn't likely to enjoy the rest of the record, I skipped it. Buying music can be expensive, especially if one is not selective. Sometimes I gambled. There have been times when I've read a review and thought to myself, "I should like that," and then bought it with nary a previous listen. Its hard to believe in these days of Genius recommedations and online audio samples that I used to read an article in the NME or Melody Maker, and would toddle off to a tiny record shop tucked into a side street in Darmstadt, Germany where I was stationed and buy a record by a band I'd never heard. But that was how I did it in those days. Results were mixed. There are some bands I found that way which I still listen to today. Blur comes to mind. In 1993, I bought "Modern Life is Rubbish" at Uli's Music Land in Darmstadt and I'm still listening to it some 15 years later. Perhaps not as much as the brilliant "Parklife" that came out the next year, but it was a start.

Some of these failed experiments were abandoned to the used CD shop or given away with other unwanted books and knick knacks before a move. I seem to remember having quite a lot of the back catalog of the Fall. Old Mark E. Smith and I didn't make such a good fit though. They had some cool album titles though. All I remember is a snatch of some angry song about former Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceausescu, but that's about it. Just not my cup of tea.

I was a late adopter of music downloads. I didn't have my own computer until I graduated from college in 1998. And then, using Napster with a dial up modem, it just didn't seem worth the trouble. If I liked the artist, I would go buy their CD anyway. It was the right thing to do, and you got the lovely packaging and cover art to go with it. And it was a tactile thing, something to hold in your hands. I wasn't about to give that up.

Now I'm on my 4th computer, I've had iTunes on the last two, and I've accepted that some music really can come from thin air, via wi-fi and once paid for of course. But I'm still an album person at heart, 95% of my library is still my own CDs. I continue to buy CDs. I've been given a few free iTunes cards and I actually won a handful in a contest, so I have had some more practice clicking that button to purchase a song instantaneously. When I flip past one of those purchases in my cover flow, I see them along side both albums I own in their entirety, and albums of which I only own one or two songs. It still makes me cringe a tiny bit.

The collection is still woefully uneven. Top loaded with Britpop from between 1992-1994 and the two or three favourite bands whose every release I must buy and listen to ad infinitum. So Morrissey, Muse, Throwing Muses, Semisonic and all their various side and solo projects. And a bunch of other random stuff that Steve Lamacq would approve of. The new favourite band. This week it's Pete and the Pirates.

That can't really be all there is to me? Okay. The Beatles are there. A bit of Bowie, and a bit of Elvis (Costello not Presley). Some Talking Heads and Lou Reed. But not much else that would fall into the category of "classic rock." I played in a garage band for a few years, and was indoctrinated into the world of Credence Clearwater Revival and Eric Clapton and other such cover band staples. "How did I not know this stuff?" my bandmates would always ask me in dismay. Have you not one single album from before 1980?

In my defense, I must say that I knew it all. Stairway to Heaven? Check. Innagoddadavida? Check. American Pie? Check. I've been hearing that stuff my whole life, it's on the radio a zillion times a day all over the world. It's on loops at retail establishments such as the Pier 1 Imports I once worked at. Of course I know that stuff. I just don't own it, and therefore don't actively listen to it.

And apparently, I don't hang out at bars enough. A particular group of friends I've gotten to know fairly recently have this regular bar they gather at every Friday night. About 20 of them, and they've all known each other for years. And they queue up the mp3 jukebox with all kinds of old stuff that everyone has heard, and they break into sing-a-longs and they all... know... every... word. Motown and all that other sort of stuff people play at parties. You know the stuff. It is communal music.

I've wandered far off my point by now. Back to the ripping and some statistics. In the last two days, I've added 1941 new songs (or items). That's 5.5 days of listening, 7.16 GB of memory space. That increased my current library by a whopping 70% to a total size of 4949 songs (or items), 13.5 days of listening and 17.49 GB of memory space, and that's all just with stuff I already own! After the chore of correcting the alphabetizing - I like my solo artists arranged by last name (as in Amos, Tori rather than sticking Tori Amos under T) - and finding all the missing cover art, I was done.

And to think, it wouldn't even fill up a 20 GB iPod! How big must the libraries of others be? Well, even so, they could never possibly listen to it all. Just like having a library full of books doesn't guarantee you could ever make it through every single one. You take a sampling. You choose your playlists of favourites and leave the rest just in case it's needed one day. And each of us has our own special mix. No two people could ever agree on what it should include.

So my collection reflects some of what I like. It gives a sense of who I am, but only I can fill in the gaps.

"Sing your life
Any fool can think of words that rhyme
Many others do
Why don't you ?
Do you want to ?
Oh...
Sing your life
Walk right up to the microphone
And name
All the things you love
All the things that you loathe...

Others sang your life
But now is a chance to shine
And have the pleasure of
Saying what you mean
Have the pleasure of
Meaning what you sing
Oh, make no mistake my friend
All of this will end
So sing it now (sing your life)...

Dont leave it all unsaid
Somewhere in the wasteland of your head, oh
Head, oh, head, oh, head, oh
And make no mistake, my friend
Your pointless life will end
But before you go
Can you look at the truth ?
You have a lovely singing voice
A lovely singing voice
And all of those
Who sing on-key
They stole the notion
From you and me
So, sing your life (sing your life)
Sing your life (sing your life)
Oh, sing your oh..."

Oh well, I quoted Morrissey. Sometimes it's just impossible not to.

How to end this now? Let's try this:
My dad just got a new cell phone, and he's decided that he wants a different ringtone for every member of the family so he knows right away who's calling. He chose easily for mom and George, but what about me? "What's your favourite song?" he asked, sensibly. And I had no answer. How could there just be one? It changes all the time. And should I choose something so obscure that not only would he not recognize it, but he wouldn't be able to associate it with me? Or should I choose an oldie but goodie. I'm still working on an answer for him. I guess I'll start flipping through my library. And then again, maybe it's a song that I haven't heard yet.